Forbidden Fantasies Bundle(27)
There was a tap on the door.
He lifted his head to say, “Come in.”
Mona entered. “All set?”
“I guess.”
“This isn’t a root canal, hon.” She chuckled, then moved away. Music swelled into the room—a wispy female voice singing something foreign. “I can’t promise you’ll forget your name or where you are like Samantha suggested, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.” He heard the wheeze of a squeeze bottle, her hands sliding together, and he braced to stay alert.
He had to stay on his toes, remain poised to pick up any clues whatsoever—hell…
Mona’s hands on his back felt like live heating pads. Lord God that felt good. Warmth rushed through him. He closed his eyes and let his mind just go.
She began to rub slowly, humming to the music, grinding out the knots and twists he hadn’t realized were there. Tension rolled off him like water off oil.
What a great idea this was. An employee benefit. Thank you, Samantha.
“So, what do you think of our Sammi?” Mona asked.
He was feeling so good that he just answered straight out. “I like her a lot.”
“She’s a wonderful, warm woman, isn’t she?”
“Mmm-hmm.” While Mona did an amazing knuckle move down his spine, he pictured Samantha on tiptoe when she’d kissed him, remembered her hot mouth, her soft tongue, how much he’d wanted to keep kissing her…all over.
Stop it. Now.
His mind switched to the memory of her in the window this morning, eyes closed, fingers on that mannequin’s chest. He imagined those fingers sliding down his back the way Mona’s were, but with a different purpose and…
Damn. A hard-on.
“I worry about her because she works too much,” Mona was saying. “She never takes time for herself.”
“Yeah. She works hard.” Don’t say hard. He struggled to settle himself. He was on the job here.
“She thinks she has to be a different person to enjoy life more, but I tell her she’s fine as she is.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he mumbled.
Mona moved to his calves with a twisting motion that dissolved every rational thought.
“She could use some company, you know,” Mona mused.
“Company?” he repeated blankly.
“Maybe you can convince her to relax more, take some time off. Heck, maybe take her out yourself.”
“Take her out…?” He shook his head, fighting for good sense. There was someone else, after all. He opened his mouth to decline, but the door tinkled and Samantha called out, “Mona? Are you…? Is Rick here?”
“In here!” Mona called loudly. “Come on in,” she said, the lilt of mischief in her voice.
Lying there naked under a thin sheet, his body slick with oil, he felt exposed. And far too erect for a man on duty.
The door opened and he heard Samantha suck in a breath at the sight of him.
“You already started,” Samantha breathed.
If she only knew.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was looking for Rick.”
She’d found him, all right, Samantha realized, with only a thin sheet covering up his spectacular body in all its nude glory. She swallowed hard, battling for a clear thought.
“We don’t mind,” Mona said. “Do we, Rick?”
Rick lifted his face out of the doughnut and turned to her. “It’s fine.” He smiled, but he seemed tense.
God, he looked good. His oiled shoulders were a lovely tan and Mona’s fingers expertly traced the dips and bulges of his many, many muscles. And here Samantha was without a camera.
“I wanted to catch you before you got…but I see you’re already…” Naked. So very, very naked.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice coming out rough.
“Just a favor…I wanted to ask you a favor is all.”
“Which is?”
“Which is what?” She blinked again rapidly, licked her lips, trying to focus. The favor. Ask the favor. “Oh. Right. Could you stop at the photo lab on your way in and pick up the order?”
“I can do that. No problem.”
She couldn’t quite get herself to leave. “It’s the Milford, Steiner and Littlefield prints, some catalog stuff, and the Simone and Balistero proofs.” She forced the words over her desert-dry throat.
“No problem,” he said again, his eyes locking on hers. Get naked and get up here. She could just swear that’s what he meant.
“That’d be great,” she said. She could see herself moving her hands slowly down his strong back, over his round backside, thick thighs and tight calves, shiny with oil, the curly hair sparkling in the gold light of the warm room.